


your ride, best trip

by lotts (LottieAnna)



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Age Difference, M/M, Soul Bond, attempts at mindfulness, math?, maybe one or two feelings. maybe one or two (thousand) feelings., they're allergic to reasonable choices but it works out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-31 21:39:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18322463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LottieAnna/pseuds/lotts
Summary: Sometimes, you kick off your 31st birthday by accidentally soulbonding with a teammate who's a decade younger and a foot shorter than you, and sometimes, you find a way to make it work.





	your ride, best trip

**Author's Note:**

> IF YOU FOUND THIS THROUGH GOOGLING, KNOW ANYONE MENTIONED IN THIS STORY PERSONALLY, OR ARE MENTIONED YOURSELF: please, please click away. This is a work of fiction and nothing written in this story is true. Any accurate information used in this story is publicly available information about public figures, the rest is made up, 100%.
> 
> thanks to dean for beta reading this!!!! 
> 
> sammy g and ej keep flirting very publicly, so. really. what else was i to do. this was gonna be porn but it ended up having less sex and more feelings/math/telepathy than intended. i'm... not sorry, i don't think? title from blink-182's "all the small things" which was actually gonna be the title of this fic, but considering that sam's 5'10", i thought that would be a little too on the nose.

EJ is going to be a grown-up about this.

Or, okay. EJ is officially 31 years old, so he’s just gotta be a grown-up, period, but especially about the whole Sam thing— he’s gonna handle this shit maturely. Because he’s ten years older, and half a foot taller, and doesn’t want to make things weird for the kid. He’s maybe kind of a mess, but he’s at least going to have some dignity about it, give his mess some finesse.

In other words, he hooked up with his much younger d-partner last night, and he’s not going to be awkward or clingy or dodgy about it. He’s going to have breakfast with him, then politely thank him for an enjoyable evening and get on with his day.

Currently, Sam’s in the shower, and EJ’s just starting to wake up, and it’s gonna be _fine._ If Sam seems unsure or nervous, EJ will show him that there’s no reason to worry, maybe even flash him a toothless grin and thank him for a night of fun. They probably shouldn’t do it again, but there’s no reason that should mean they’re full of regret over it. The only real concern is that Sam’s so young. Which— it hasn’t stopped them from flirting for the past forever, and EJ was pretty careful to make sure Sam was the one calling the shots on everything last night, but it’s still… it’s a consideration, right, because EJ is a decent dude.

The water shuts off, and EJ shifts a little, tries to look a little more awake.

“Oh, you’re up,” Sam says, walking out of the shower. His towel is tied around his waist, and EJ is momentarily caught off guard by how distracting it is. Sam might be tiny, but he’s still a hockey player, which means he’s got thighs and biceps, and EJ still forgets sometimes that he has that fucking forearm tattoo. It’s not that Sam being attractive is new to him, but— he’s not used to being able to _look._ He’s never really had to take it all in like this before.

His mouth is maybe a little dry.

“Hey, it’s your birthday, right?” Sam says, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Uh,” EJ says. He definitely planned to be super normal this morning, but apparently that plan’s down the drain, because his brain is no longer working. In his defense, Sam’s, like, dripping wet. “Yeah.”

“Sweet,” Sam says, and then, matter of factly, he stands up, drops his towel, and says, “I’ll suck your dick, then?”

EJ short circuits at that, more or less, but thankfully some reflex kicks in enough to get him to nod enthusiastically.

So, EJ’s morning doesn’t go according to plan, but it does go well, all things considered.

……

Actually, wait—

“You hooked up with G last night,” Tyson says, matter-of-fact, as soon as he sees him at team breakfast.

“Most people would lead with ‘hello’ or ‘happy birthday’ or something,” EJ grumbles. “Just, FYI.”

“Happy birthday, you had sex with a teenager last night,” Tyson says.

EJ’s face goes red. “He’s _twenty_.”

“What a meaningful distinction, you’re right,” Tyson says. “I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it, I’m just saying you did it.”

“Can’t you mind your own business?”

Tyson looks offended. “Dude,” he says. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

EJ briefly considers telling Tyson that he very much wishes he didn’t know him, but that seems like it’s a step too far. “How do you even know, anyway?”

“I saw him, I saw you, I saw hickeys,” Tyson says. “Also, you’re being weird about it.”

“Am not,” EJ says, because he’s _not._ He and Sam aren’t avoiding each other; if anything, they’re being extra normal today, if you don’t count the part where EJ almost stuck his hand down Sam’s pants in the elevator.

In his defense, they were making out.

This has been a theme of the past twelve hours of EJ’s life.

“Really,” Tyson says. “Where is he?”

“With Gravy and Josty,” EJ says, automatic.

Tyson throws his hands up, like that somehow proves something. “Why do you _know_ that.”

“Because they’re right across the room?”

“But you’re not looking at them,” Tyson says. “I am. Why are you keeping tabs on him?”

“I’m not,” EJ says, defensive. “I just— I happened to know that.”

“What, you’ve got some G telepathy thing now?” Tyson says, and EJ frowns, because as ridiculous as Tyson is being right now— he has a point. EJ isn’t trying to keep an eye on Sam, he just… knows it. Doesn’t notice, just knows.

And that’s fucking weird, is the thing.

“Yo?” Tyson says. “Earth to EJ?”

“Yeah, just—” EJ turns around, looks at Sam, and isn’t surprised to find that Sam’s looking back at him, a slight furrow in his brow.

But it’s, like, a sexy furrow? Like he’s a little concerned and wants to bang about it. And EJ feels that, too, and also, he’s thinking about the elevator again, and wondering if they could make it that far before tearing each other’s clothes off, because now that they’re looking at each other, that seems like the only reasonable conclusion.

“Oh, _god,_ ” Tyson says. “I know that face. What did you do, EJ?”

“I— I didn’t mean to,” EJ says, and it’s difficult to hear his own voice over the refrains of ‘oh no’ and ‘oh _yes’_ alternating in his head.

If he listens closely, one of the voices—the affirmative one—definitely has a French Canadian lilt.

……

Alright, so, EJ fucked up.

Sam doesn’t seem to see the problem in all this.

“If we bond, we bond,” Sam says, moving to put a hand under EJ’s shirt. “We can always just undo it later.”

“It’s not easy to get these things reversed, G,” EJ says, trying to work up the willpower to take a step back. It’s very difficult. “The best course of action is not letting it settle.”

“There’s no guarantee that it’ll even work,” Sam says, as if EJ doesn’t know that. “Our options are, don’t have sex and probably end up bonded, or have sex and end up bonded, and I wanna go with the option where we have sex.”

“It’s not ‘probably,’” EJ says, except he’s got a hand in Sam’s hair.

“What?”

“It’s not _probably_ end up bonded, it’s _maybe_ end up bonded, so—” EJ cuts himself off with a gasp, because Sam’s got a leg between his thighs now, “—we’ve got to at least try.”

“Does it really make a difference?” Sam says.

And EJ gets it, he really does. Everything in him is telling him, no, it doesn’t matter, please just bone ASAP, but— it matters. There’s a reason it matters, even if EJ can’t think of it right now.   

“Yes,” EJ manages, and, to his credit, he grabs Sam’s wrist and holds it, firm. “We’re gonna try and put this off, because I’m not playing a divisional rival while a soulbond tries to settle.”

“You really think we’ll be able to shake this by the game tonight?” Sam says, raising an eyebrow at EJ in a way that shouldn’t be sexy, objectively speaking, but definitely is.

“I think that we should try,” EJ says, his voice strained. Maybe grabbing Sam’s wrist was a bad idea, because wrist-grabbing is something that can be sexy, and EJ’s definitely thinking about it in the sexy way now. “You’re too young to be bonded.”

Sam snorts at that. “Can’t pull the ‘older and wiser’ card on someone who’s already fucked you, dude.”

“I can do what I want,” EJ says, and he knows it sounds sort of petulant, but what the fuck ever. Sam doesn’t get a monopoly on being a brat just because he’s 20. You don’t grow out of that shit.  

“And what you want to do is—”

“Win the game and not have to deal with an accidental bond,” EJ says. “So that’s what we’ll do. Got it?”

Sam pouts. “Fine,” he says, and it sounds a little harsh, but EJ chalks that up to circumstance. “No more sex.”

Which. Sounds a little drastic to EJ, but again, that’s probably the bond talking. This morning, he was fine with the idea of not having sex with Sam again. One good night with a guy he likes a lot should be enough.

Or— no.

It _is_ enough.

……

“I can’t tell if his thoughts are getting louder,” EJ complains. He hadn’t anticipated spending his 31st birthday upside-down on a bed in Gabe Landeskog’s hotel room, but he also hadn’t anticipated an accidental soulbond, so.

“If you can’t tell, then they aren’t,” Gabe says. “Try not to think about whether or not you can hear them, though. It’ll just make the bond stronger.”

EJ groans. “Telling me not to think about it will make me think about it.”

“Think about something else,” Tyson says. “Like, uh… what’s 11 times 14?”

“Do I look like a calculator?” EJ snaps.

“Just do the problem,” Tyson says. “In your head.”

“Why—”

“To give you something to think about,” Tyson says. He waves his phone. “I’m looking up strategies.”

“My hero,” EJ deadpans, but he figures it’s better than nothing, so. “Uh, do I get a pencil and paper, or?”

“If there’s one in the room,” Tyson says.

“There should be,” Gabe says, standing up to look. “Isn’t that a thing hotels have?”

“Maybe?” Tyson says. “In the meantime, EJ, just— do it in your head, or something.”

EJ starts to think— tries to remember multiplication rules, like he’s back in school. Line up the digits, bigger number on top.

 _Just put a zero at the end and add 14,_ he hears in his head, and he blinks. “154.”

“Hm?” Tyson says.

“140 plus 14, 154,” he echoes. He only partially understands the logic behind that; apparently, his math skills are rustier than—

 _Why are you doing math badly and loudly at me?_ Sam’s voice says, clear as anything. It’s weird, hearing Sam’s thoughts; they sound like his voice, except the accent isn’t getting in the way of the words anymore. It reminds EJ a bit of how Sam’s English gets better when he drinks, like he’s less self-conscious, so the words flow easier.  

Also, EJ can hear Sam’s thoughts, which is… not a good sign.

“I, uh, don’t think the math thing is working,” EJ says. “Also, I think G’s better at math than I am.” _Why are you good at math?_ he thinks at Sam, even though he probably shouldn’t.

 _Dunno,_ Sam-in-his-head says. _Guess I was in school more recently._

Which makes EJ feel about a hundred years old.

Sam, helpful as ever, just laughs at him.

“Hey, EJ,” Gabe says, snapping his fingers right in his face, which is annoying enough to snap EJ out of his forbidden silent conversation. Bondversation? He wonders if that’s a thing. “Bonds thrive on closeness, remember? Physical proximity or emotional intimacy—”

“Strictly forbidden, I get it,” EJ says, and then, really quickly, sends Sam a, _We shouldn’t do this_. “Look— I’m trying, okay? It’s just… hard.”

“I’m sure,” Gabe says, slipping into the same voice he uses with rookies having a hard time finding their feet. “I mean, I don’t know much about accidental bonds myself, but—”

“I do,” Tyson finishes for him, in that annoying way soulbonded couples do. “I mean, they never got this far, but, y’know, when you’ve got lots of potential, there are bound to be a few near-misses.”

“Did math problems help you?” EJ asks, sarcastic.

“Oh, god, no,” Tyson says. “It was always with people I didn’t end up seeing again.”

“That’s helpful,” EJ says, squeezing his eyes shut and trying not to think about the fact that he’s gonna have to see Sam in an hour, if he goes to morning skate, and that gets him thinking about whether Sam’s going to morning skate, which makes him wonder where Sam is now— “I don’t know how this is gonna work when we have to play together.”

“Hockey might help,” Gabe suggests.

“Yeah, and then you’ll, like, figure out how to think about him without it being a bond-y thing,” Tyson says. “Just— try and focus on the here and now, okay? The internet says doing mindfulness exercises works.”

“Okay, and how do I do those?”

“You’re just… mindful,” Tyson says, which is unhelpful. “Like, think about right now, not what’s going to happen with G, or how this happened in the first place.”

EJ winces, trying not to let that jog any memories of last night; instead, he thinks back further into the past, because the world pre-sex with Sam was a lot simpler.

Except—

Okay, so, there are parts of EJ’s brain that he’s never really accessed, because they store feelings that he’d prefer not to to think about, ever. And some of those feelings are related to Sam, which probably shouldn’t be helpful, except—

It’s like, those feelings are feelings he’s worked really hard to keep as far away from Sam as possible, so when he thinks about them, it’s like part of his brain is curling up into a ball and turning its back on him. There’s no way that logic should track, but then again, bonds don’t exactly work on logic, and EJ can feel it happening— Sam’s farther from him now, held firmly at bay, because EJ’s thinking about The Sam Thing, and The Sam Thing had been, up until last night, firmly locked away. Most of it still is, honestly.

“Uh,” EJ says, “What if I just… focus on a different problem instead?”

“You mean, like, another math problem?” Tyson says.

For a second, EJ wonders which is worse, thinking about math or thinking about this. He thinks math might actually be more pleasant, but it’s harder to focus on, so. “I mean, like, more of a general life problem.”

“Oh, yes, that’s a good idea,” Tyson says, perking up. “I give great advice. Right, Gabe?”

“You’re just doing that thing you always do after a new season of Queer Eye comes out.”

“I internalize their wisdom,” Tyson says. “Come on, EJ, let me be your Karamo.”

“I love you, but you’re _maybe_ Antoni,” Gabe says.

“Whatever,” Tyson says. “Advice is the point of this. Let’s advise EJ on his life.”

Tyson sounds way too excited at the prospect of EJ spilling his guts, and EJ feels an inherent distrust towards anyone that hype to play amateur life coach, but.

“It’s just, like—” EJ takes a breath. “You know, feelings and shit.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Tyson and Gabe exchange a look—EJ wonders for a second if they’re having a silent bondversation, but he’s able to push that thought out of his head easily enough—and then.

“You know, correct me if this is offside,” Gabe says, “but wouldn’t that involve talking about—”

“We’ll keep this anonymous,” EJ says quickly. “I just— I think this is the thing that works best.”

“Because you don’t want anyone to know about it,” Tyson says, and, okay, EJ will give credit where credit is due, Tyson’s pretty good at reading situations.  

“And he’s anyone,” Gabe says, nodding. “Got it.”

“Right,” EJ says. “So.”

Tyson and Gabe look at him, expectant, and EJ looks down at his hands.

“So,” Tyson says. “Are we doing a thing where we pretend we don’t know who you’re talking about, or what?”

“I mean— no, not if I know that,” EJ says, and his face is sort of burning.  

“Technically, we don’t know for sure,” Gabe says. “If you don’t tell us the name, there’s gonna be room for doubt, right?”

“Anyone who’s ever played Guess Who could tell you why that’s wrong,” Tyson points out. “I just kinda wanna know what your deal with him is. Besides this whole…” He waves vaguely in EJ’s direction. “This thing.”

“I mean,” EJ says. “I don’t… know?”

“You mean, you don’t know what he thinks of it all, or—”

“Not even that,” EJ says. “I just… don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?” Gabe asks. “What you want? What you could—”

“No, like— I don’t know anything,” EJ says. “Just— there’s a thing.”

There’s a beat. “A thing,” Tyson echoes.

“Yeah,” EJ says.

“And that’s… all you know?” Gabe asks.

EJ shrugs. “Pretty much.”

Slowly, Tyson nods. “Right,” he says. “So, uh, I’m not a shrink, but— it sounds like this is some seriously repressed shit, man.”

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” EJ says. He holds out his hands, raises his eyebrows. “Good distraction, right?”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather do some math?” Tyson says. “We could try some algebra—”

“No,” EJ says. “I think this is what I need to do.”

“I think he’s right, Tys,” Gabe says.

Tyson looks between them. “Alright,” he says. “Well, in that case— let’s deal with your feelings, dude.”

EJ—because he’s going to be a grown-up about this, and that means he’s going to face his problems head-on—cracks his knuckles.

……

_[Found on a pad of hotel room stationary in Dallas, Texas:]_

_-start: late 2017 → feelings (sweden?)_

_-unclear if flirting was immediate_

_-feelings_

_-hockey feelings?_

_→ feelings:_

_-pros:_

_→_ _short_

_→ cute_

_→ convenient - not weird, just fact (not hard to find)_

_[In different handwriting:]_

_→ good looking_

_→ funny_

_→_ _good at stuff_

_[In original handwriting:]_

_-cons:_

_→ teammate (could be awkward)_

_→ partner_

_→ young_

_→ short (might need things off high shelves)_

_→ ???_

_CONCLUSION:_ ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

……

So, they don’t make much progress on EJ sorting out his… feelings, or whatever.

“It’s not ‘or whatever,’” Tyson says. “They’re feelings.”

“Whatever,” EJ says.

……

There are many things EJ would rather do than go to morning skate, because now that he’s done thinking about The Sam Thing, he has to confront current-Sam, who’s taking up a very different kind of real estate in his head.

It’s easy enough keeping those things separate, at least. EJ would rather die than have Sam know about The Sam Thing, and apparently his brain isn’t actually out here trying to ruin his life in every possible way. It draws that line, at the very least.

But, of course, current-Sam comes with his own set of problems for EJ.

Namely, wanting to bone him.

A lot.

Also, Sam’s apparently mad at him, which means he’s doing some sort of sexy scowl thing. Or, no, he’s just scowling, and EJ’s brain is doing something weird with that that’s making it appear sexy. Not that Sam’s not usually sexy, but— whatever. It’s funny-pouty-angry-sexy, is the point.

“What’s up with you today?” Mikko says, tapping the back of EJ’s thighs with his stick. “Head in the game, birthday boy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” EJ says, trying not to look too directly at Sam, because he’s pretty sure he’s gonna feel compelled to drag him off the ice and into some dark corner so Sam can let him know exactly what’s wrong, right in his ear, preferably pressed up against him—

 _I can hear you, you know,_ Sam’s voice says, and EJ’s so startled that he flails before falling right on his ass.

He doesn’t need to look to know that Sam’s laughing at him, both because he can hear it in his ear, and because he could’ve guessed.

 _It’s amazing how they fit so much annoying into one tiny person,_ EJ says, except he’s pretty sure that his brain also throws in the fact that he wants to have sex in the nearest zamboni despite that.

 _You were doing a fine job of shutting this down before,_ Sam replies. _I’m sure you’ll figure it out again._

_You could help, you know._

_I’m trying my hardest,_ Sam says, and then does the telepathic equivalent of blowing EJ a kiss in that bratty, sarcastic way he sometimes does.

Whether it’s charming because of the soulbond or because of Sam is anyone’s guess, really.

……

Most of the rest of the day is… okay.

EJ continues trying to figure out what the fuck is up with him and Sam in a non-soulbond capacity, which locks Sam out of his head pretty effectively. Sam’s thoughts feel less insistent as the day goes on, and EJ has a feeling it’s because he’s hurt, and that sucks, but EJ needs to deal with that later— reassuring him that they’re still gonna get to keep up their flirting schtick won’t do much to ward off a soulbond, for sure.

In the meantime: feelings.

Feelings that he told himself he shouldn’t act on, feelings that he told himself would never amount to anything, feelings about things he didn’t want to admit he wanted because he wanted them with someone who was a lot younger and in a very different place than he was.

Feelings for someone who had some feelings back, probably. But those feelings might’ve been too much, or not enough.

(And maybe EJ should switch this to the present tense, at some point, but the thing is— present tense problems need to be avoided at all cost. Mindfulness might work for some, but EJ’s pretty sure that dwelling on the past is what will work for him right now.)

……

EJ doesn’t feel it the moment he fails.

Contrary to popular belief, soulbonds don’t snap into place like rubber bands; they just reach a point where they become impossible to resist, and then it takes a whole lot of doctors to undo them. It’s not like Sam’s immediately _right_ in EJ’s head, either, just— by the time the game starts, Sam’s tugging at his thoughts again, still kind of mad and vague, and EJ doesn’t think he’s doing it on purpose, but he very much wants his anger to be noticed. Which, like. Petty, for sure, but whatever. Everyone in EJ’s life is dramatic as hell, so he’s used to this.

But, if EJ had to guess, that’s probably one of the reasons it fails. That, and the fact that he has to play hockey with Sam, and hockey’s not emotional until it is. And EJ scores in a must-win game _on his birthday,_ and Sam plays beautifully, and then— the Sam Thing catches up to him, okay? The whole… the weird feelings, that aren’t just _feelings-_ feelings, but happy feelings, and why-do-I-feel-this feelings, and guilty feelings, and sexy feelings, and scary feelings, and just— lots of feelings. They’re all _there,_ and they’re all about Sam, and then he’s looking for him on the ice and in awe of how well he plays, and how well they play together, and somewhere along the line… they get soulbonded.

It’s not quite there yet when EJ scores, but he can definitely feel his thoughts surging towards Sam, gratitude and appreciation and fierce joy bubbling up where their foreheads are pressed together. And that’s a whole fucking lot, right? It’s— god, it’s Sam, right here on the ice, being confusing and amazing and somehow everything EJ needs, and—

By second intermission, they’re scrambling off the ice and trying to find somewhere private where they can deal with their hot-off-the-presses soulbond, because not touching each other is no longer an option.

“Didn’t I say this would happen?” Sam says, somewhere between grumpy, smug, and turned on.

“Whatever,” EJ says, not really caring at all about who said what, because he doesn’t really have room for that right now. He’s sort of too focused on trying to find a room where they can get out of their clothes and do the things they both can’t stop thinking about.

“Here,” Sam says, like he can read EJ’s mind— which, he can, actually. Not in super clear thoughts right now, but he probably gets the ‘please get us alone’ vibe. EJ certainly is getting it from Sam, but Sam’s apparently the slightly more clear-headed of the two of them, which doesn’t really make much sense, EJ thinks, but he honestly couldn’t care less right now, because Sam’s pulling him into some room that’s probably meant for the trainers to use and closing the door behind them, and then EJ’s sitting down on the table and pulling Sam in for a kiss, clumsy and a little rough.

 _God, I love how tall you are,_ Sam thinks, and for a moment, EJ feels— surrounded, towered over, small. Which is weird, because at the moment, his hands feel huge on Sam’s shoulders, but it’s like he’s on both ends of this.

 _You’re so tiny,_ EJ thinks back at him. He very much likes the fact that they can have a conversation without having to pause the kissing. _I’m sitting, and I’m still taller than you._

_You like that?_

EJ thinks, _yes,_ but he can’t keep the overwhelming guilt out of it, because— he feels weird that he likes how small Sam is, okay? That shouldn’t be a _thing_ for him. And Sam picks up on that guilt, too, and something in the bond heats up, like Sam _likes_ that EJ likes how small he is.

 _Really,_ EJ says, a little smug.

 _Whatever,_ Sam says, and then he’s tugging EJ’s jersey off, and they’re both mostly rushing to take each other’s clothes off as fast as possible without having to stop touching for more than half a second.

Soulbond sex is intense as hell, and EJ always knew this on, like, an intellectual level, but it’s very different when you actually experience it. It’s like you’re in two places at once, but it’s not weird or confusing, just… a lot. Like, he’s got his hand on Sam’s dick, and that doesn’t just mean he gets to see and hear how good Sam feels— he can feel it too, and then he knows what feels _exactly_ right for Sam, which means it’s super easy to get him off.

Under different circumstances, EJ would like to take his time, because he’s very intrigued at how easy it would be to really make Sam wait for it—and how into _that_ concept Sam apparently is—but right now, neither of them has the patience or time.

EJ feels something tug low in his stomach when Sam comes, and suddenly, he’s _right_ on the edge. A part of him wonders if it’s just the fact that Sam’s eyes are half-lidded and his breathing is heavy and he’s thinking things like, _your hands are so fucking big_ and _love that I marked you up last night_ and _let me get my hands on you, please._ And those thoughts are sexy as fuck, sure, but EJ is over 30 now, and he got his dick sucked that morning, and he’s barely been touched, so. He’s pretty sure that this is a soulbond thing.

“Sam—” he starts to say, before he remembers that he doesn’t actually have to, because Sam can feel what he’s feeling. EJ is starting to see the appeal of this whole thing— sure, it’s really fucking intense, but it's the good kind of intense. The best kind of intense, probably.

It’s over quickly, but EJ’s heart is still pounding afterwards. The whole thing is indecent, and probably a little gross, but they’re not the first two people to soulbond at an inconvenient time. It’s maybe a little embarrassing, but these things happen.

“Oh my god,” Sam says, which is the first real thing either of them has said out loud since they got here. He’s still a little breathless, which is a pretty incredible sound, in EJ’s opinion. “How are you already _thinking_ again?”

EJ is newly bonded and a little come-dumb, so he doesn’t have a comeback for that, just lets out this soft, embarrassingly contented kind of chuckle. Whoops. “My brain doesn’t turn off, man.”

“Still,” Sam says. He sounds a little grumpy and a lot cute. “It managed to stop for most of today.”

“Oh, I was thinking,” EJ says. “I was thinking _hard_.”

“Really,” Sam says, a little deadpan.

“Yeah, just— stuff I knew I didn’t want you to know,” EJ says. “It worked pretty well.”

“Not well enough, I guess?”

EJ looks down at his hands, which are resting on Sam’s hips. “We gave it an honest shot, but— I guess sometimes you can't stop these things, y’know?”

“Guess so,” Sam says. “Does this mean I get to know what you were thinking about?”

“Nope,” EJ says, even though his stupid traitor brain sends, _I should probably tell you, actually,_ through the bond.

Sam frowns. “Wait, what?”

“No, I mean, it’s not a big deal, just— I was trying to sort some shit out,” EJ says.

“What kind of stuff?”

“About—” EJ gulps; he really, really hates talking about this shit.

Except then he remembers— he’s soulbonded now. He doesn’t have to talk about shit with Sam ever again, if he doesn’t want to.

“Here,” EJ says, before he closes his eyes and tries to— to loosen a grip on this box of feelings he’s been clutching so tight to his chest, even as he tried to unpack it earlier. The thoughts he’s been trying to keep under control start to roam loose in his head, and he feels Sam sift through them, feels him react to every flash of a memory or hint of something scary. He feels the recognition, the relief of Sam watching through the times they’ve made each other laugh; he feels a lump in his throat as Sam unravels the embarrassment EJ feels whenever he remembers how young Sam is. He watches Sam trace the tangled up fond and protective feelings that bubble up whenever EJ looks at him, before they coalesce into confusion the second Sam’s gone. He feels Sam carefully consider every single one of those things in only a matter of seconds, and feels Sam’s mirrors of them in his own mind, too, which is— surprisingly nice, if EJ’s being honest.

And maybe EJ hasn’t been fully honest with himself until now, actually, because if he was being honest, he’d have to admit that he always sort of knew Sam liked him a lot. But he’d been worried about that—among other things—fucking things up for them, so it’s nice that feeling it for sure doesn’t feel bad or scary.

Which it shouldn’t, because they’re already literally soulbonded, but still.

“You were stressed out over the fact that you like me all day?” Sam asks, his voice snarky but the rest of him soothing.

EJ just shrugs, looks at his feet. “It was the easiest way to keep you out of my head, I guess.”

“That’s weird,” Sam says, matter-of-fact. “Also, I don’t think that did anything to stop the bond from forming.”

“Whatever,” EJ says. He’s not regretting this bond all that much right now, so he doesn’t really care about what he could’ve done differently. He’s fine with the fact that he tried, really. “We’ll be fine for the rest of the game, probably.”

“And after that, we can…” Sam shrugs, and his mind says, _try and unbond, if you still want to, or otherwise—_

“We’ll figure something out,” EJ says.

There’s subtext to it that he knows Sam can hear, and he feels him process it, then consider all of the things he is and isn’t saying; After a second, Sam seems to come to the conclusion that it’s a good enough answer for both of them.

So. Pretty much the best possible outcome, all things considered.

**Author's Note:**

> warnings:  
> -irl, sam is 20 and ej is 31, which is a pretty substantial age difference.  
> -there is a telepathic bond, but no one's secrets are exposed and no one feels invaded/upset.


End file.
